


What's the Harm in Dreaming?

by ApocalypseMeow



Category: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lenny has feelings, Meeting in bars like it's going out of style, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23906155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypseMeow/pseuds/ApocalypseMeow
Summary: In which Lenny Bruce over thinks things at a bar. Specifically, one Mrs. Maisel.
Relationships: Lenny Bruce (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)/Miriam "Midge" Maisel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 78





	What's the Harm in Dreaming?

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, when I'm not writing original content, I borrow other creators' characters for a while. Any errors are my own. I can only proofread so many times before I lose my mind.

He thinks it would be easier if she had never ended up in the back of that cop car with him. He wouldn’t know what he was missing; wouldn’t know what it was like to fly so close to the sun. But now that he’s had a taste he’s sure he can’t give her up. How did anyone have the strength to just let her go? To watch her exit their life for good? Her ex-husband and that doctor she had been seeing? Something had to be wrong with them. At least they were securely in her past, which means just maybe there’s room for him in her future.

He has an apartment now and hasn’t been arrested lately, which means less court fees. He still has the alimony payments, but he’s had a steady string of gigs and is finally starting to be able to pay bills and save some money on the side. How novel, he’s basically a functioning member of society at this point. Hell, he hasn’t even been drinking as much lately – mostly, unless provided by the venue. That definitely helped with the money saving, he was quick to note. And the drugs? He was sticking to marijuana and the occasional bump of coke; he’d cut out everything else months ago.

Every once in a while he lets himself imagine what it would be like to have her. To be hers. He knows it’s a bad idea – it’s only ever gotten his hopes up and then left unfulfilled. He had accepted long ago that friends was it. If that’s all they would ever be he was lucky to have that much. He knows he’s a mess and that she’s better off without his baggage, but a guy can dream. What harm could really come from dreaming? A voice in the back of his head tells him he should know better.

Lighting a cigarette, he wonders how he even got himself into this situation. Sure, she had bailed him out first. He hadn’t needed to return the favor after her second arrest. He could have – _should_ have – walked away. That night sealed his fate. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but as the saying goes, hindsight is 20/20. He knows he’s a fuck up. Knows he should fade into the background of her life until he disappears completely. The easy way out. When had he become such a fucking coward? Oh, right, when he had fallen for the one radiant thing in his life. The unattainable Mrs. Maisel. A beacon of hope in his otherwise shit existence. A force of nature telling the world everything will be just fine in the end, if only you let it. Even when she was at her worst, when her world was falling down around her, she always made it work. She never backed down. Never let the unknown stop her. He admired the hell out of her for that. He’d never been good at it. He’d let it get the best of him, get arrested, get drunk, get fucked up on whatever he could get his hands on. Wallow in self pity, that was his MO. He likes to think he’s getting better, though. Because just knowing her, just having that light in his life, has made him strive to be better. That has to count for something, right?

A fresh double whiskey appears in front of him, pulling him from his thoughts. Either the bartender can read minds or he looks as miserable as he feels. Regardless, he’s grateful for the distraction. He shouldn’t be thinking about her right now. He should be going over the next set in his head. Fine-tuning it, taking notes. Easier said than done. He’s full of fucking sayings tonight. Maybe he can put something about doling out sayings like a parent doling out advice in his next set… but make it him? No. He decides against that; it’s played out by now. He needs something new. Something that won’t quite get him arrested but will still be true to his act. He’s better at off-the-cuff comedy anyway, should try to not over think it. As he takes a sip of the whiskey he feels a shift in the room. A shift that is usually indicative of one Midge Maisel. Hadn’t he just gotten past thinking about her? He knows it’s just in his head. Knows she’s thousands of miles away in Europe right now. Knows there’s no way she’d end up at the same dive as him tonight, even if she were in the city. Someone sits next to him at the bar but he doesn’t look up. He’s too busy trying to get the thought of her out of his head.

“Gin martini, up, and keep them coming.”

And there she is. It’s not a ghost. Not a hallucination. The real deal. She’s beaming at him and goddamn, he fucking missed her. Something is wrong, he can tell by the way her eyes don’t fully match her smile. They’ll get to that when she’s ready. Right now the only thing that matters is she’s not in Europe. She’s at the same shitty bar as him with a look that says _I’ve finally found you_. They fall into easy conversation, skirting the line of friendship and flirtation. Selfishly he’s glad she’s back. Glad that the tour came to an early end for her. He knows great things are still going to happen with her career and that this is a minor setback at most; does his best to reassure her of that.

He realizes, in the end, it doesn’t matter if this thing between them goes anywhere. He’s lucky to have someone in his life he admires and who admires him back. Someone he can banter with, someone who keeps up with him. It’s worth more than any relationship he’s ever had. So, as the night comes to an end, he’s come to the conclusion that he’s okay continuing as is with Midge. If things between them happen one day that’s just a bonus. He’s more than happy to be in her life. To have her in his. As friends, sparring partners bouncing jokes off of one another, as bail buddies. In the end, he’s lucky to have met her. He’s lucky she thought he was worth keeping around. And hey, a guy can always dream. What’s the harm in that?


End file.
